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Butler students tend a Relpinj 
hand to El Dorado's mentally 
and physically challenged m 



(Ail-Over Again) 

For the third year in a row, The Grizzly Magazine has 
received the All-Kansas award, which is given to the 

best collegiate magazine in the state, by the Kansas 
Associated Collegiate Press. In addition to this overall 
award, the magazine staff brought home 3 8 individual 

awards including the sweep of all five photography 
categories and the Journalist of the Year award. 

1999 Magazine 

Journalist of the Year 



wif m PI 

1 ' fc'" 

Journalist Of The Year 

£t| Ss^r ! 

JUSTIN HAYWORTH. former editor 

First Place News Photography 
First Place Sports Photography 
First Place Single Ad Design 


photo editor 


First Place News Writing 

First Place Photo Essay 

First Place Sports Page Design 

First Place Table of Contents Page Design 

First Place Single Ad Design 

First Place Feature Photography 

First Place in Photo 

Mike Shepherd 


Chris Lawrie 

Photo Editor 

Michael Bergkamp 

Editorial Assistant 

Kristy Egbert 

Feature Writer 

Kim Gaines 


Jessy Clonts 


Jennifer Elliott 

Feature Writer 

Travis Milne 

Feature Writer 

Dave Kratzer 

Faculty Advisor 

i dBm* JH jffiffttow' 


Butler County Community College 

901 S. Haverhill Road 

Building 100, Room 104 

El Dorado, Kansas 67042 

(316) 322-0893 

(316) 322-3280 

Letters to the editor encouraged 

Paulette Schadegg of El 
Dorado shares a hug with 
Warren Wade, a resident of 
the Creative Community 
Living house on Wedgewood 
Street in north El Dorado. 
Photo by Mike Shepherd. 
Story on page 26. 

^Volxi.m.e ■ 
l^J vi *n 1> e r 

Spring 1999 

4 Meet Floyd Ray 

To Floyd Ray, KBTL is just 
another radio station. After 
working at three commercial 
stations in Wichita, find out 
why he decided to make the 
move to Butler. 

Story by Kristy Egbert 

26 Cover Story 

After the Winfield State 
Hospital closed in 1996, 
patients there had nowhere 
to go. Now, with help from 
Butler students, 30 of them 
call El Dorado home. 

Story by Jennifer Elliott 

34 It's the Shoes 

What's up with girls and their 
shoes? These days it seems that 
there is more shoe fashion-and big 
shoes at that-than ever. They've 
certainly come a long way from 
just saddle shoes and penny 

Story by Jessy Clonts 

The Grizzly 3 




Just another day for Floyd Ray 

Story by Kristy Egbert • Photos by Mike Shepherd 

The way Floyd Ray sees it, KBTL is just another radio 
station on the dial. After all, the 39-year-old alternative 
rock deejay has been in the radio slash music business 
for as long as most traditional college students have been 
alive and in radio specifically since 1991 when he landed a 
gig with KEYN and KQAM in Wichita. Then, in 1995, he 
started on the midnight to 6 a.m. shift at KICT-95. When 
that station moved to pre-recorded shows during the 
overnight hours, Ray moved from an air talent to his cur- 
rent job as the station's remote technician. 

Hard work and an education do pay off despite 
whether most people would like to admit it. And it's that 
education that Floyd Ray is hoping will propel him into 
even greater jobs. 

Ray is a non-traditional student here at Butler working 
as a deejay on the school's radio station. He also works for 
Wichita's KICT-95 and also hosts a contemporary rock and 
alternative music video show. Ray injured his back in 1991, 
forcing him out of his job and into rehabilitation. As a 
result, he decided that coming back to school would be a 

4 The Grx»ias5Bly 

good idea. Now he has to struggle with handling both of 
his jobs, keeping his grades up and working for the 
school's radio station. 

"I couldn't maintain a reasonable grade point average 
being a full-time student , but with my college hours cut 
back I'm still only working part-time at both jobs while 
continuing my education," Ray says. The last two semes- 
ters he was a full-time student, but this semester his two 
jobs only leave him enough time to take four hours of 
Radio Production and Applied Radio. He's on the air from 
noon to 2:00 pm every Wednesday. 

"I've always really been into music and always hung 
out with friends who were in bands. I was always able to 
meet famous people mainly through friends and the 
events I worked. I helped work various events like Oz Fest 
and the Christmas Crusade for Children. These things led 
to my job at T-95," Ray explains. 

With all of his experience with these events and the 
knowledge he had from previously working at a Wichita 
AM station, T-95 hired him part-time while they fixed their 

Floyd Ray starts off his nights as the remote technician for T-95 
by driving to the location to set up the transmitting equipment. 
This particular location is America's Pub in Old Town. Here he 
is seen calling back to the station to see that he has a clear 

After he is done with the equipment check, Floyd walks 
around the building hanging up banners. Opposite page: Then 
it's back to the station to operate the board. Though the music 
is selected and played by a computer, someone has to be there 
to push buttons. When the live remote is over, it's back to the 
location to tear it all down. 

computers. That break gave him the start he needed. 

In the beginning his job was part-time air talent, but 
now he fills in and does air shifts for people when they go 
on vacation or are sick. He fabricates shows-meaning he 
brings in a couple of people and they act like they're doing 
something for six hours when in reality they're there for 
only about two hours. "Remember-this is radio. It's all 
about what you say and how you say it," Ray says. 

Ray's main job as a remote technician doesn't leave a lot 
of time for air shifts. Anything that T-95 does away from 
the station is what he works on. He makes sure they have 
everything they need at the remote location, like a broad- 
cast booth, microphones, banners and a clear channel to 
transmit from. Ray also coordinates promotional events 
and is usually in charge of the prize bag and its distribu- 

"While I enjoy my job as a remote technician, I know 

if Coming to school 
is what got me 
where I am, or else 
I'd probably be 

out there 
mowing yards, 99 

my back won't hold together much longer through the 
physical tasks of it, so I would rather be on air or working 
with the administration part of it. That's where the money 
is-administration," Ray says. 

Two of his favorite remotes would have to be Oz Fest 
and the Summer Drag Boat Races. He also enjoys the 
department store remotes because he gets to meet a good 
cross section of the public. That isn't good for the station, 
though, because then the public will start to recognize him 
instead of the deejay on location doing the broadcasting. 

When asked if he met a lot of famous people since he 
started working at T-95, he replied that he doesn't meet 
any more now than he did before because he's always 
been into music. 

"When I was 16, 1 was hitch-hiking in Arkansas on my 
way to work from the local swimming hole when three 
girls picked me up. A couple of years later when I was 18, 
I found out one of the girls was Joan Jett and the other two 
were playing for the Go-Go's," Ray says smiling. 

He's talked to Chuck Berry, but so far his favorite per- 
son he has met would have to be Billy Squire, because he 
is someone Ray can identify with from his earlier days. 

"I feel like I've been given these opportunities because 
I've shown that I'm willing to be educated. I still may have 
to spend that 10 years to get a good start, and it appears 
the education is helping me get that foothold so that in 10 
years my career will be on its way and not just getting off 
the ground. I do plan on attending school here until I get 
my associates degree, and then I plan on going on to a 
four-year college to get a bachelor's degree as work 
allows," Ray says. 

Ray's second job is hosting a contemporary rock and 
alternative music video show called High Voltage, which 
airs Friday and Saturday nights at 10:30 on TV-53, a UHF 
station. That requires digging out your old rabbit ears 
because it's not on cable. 

"The show is kind of like an internship, as yet I have 
not received a paycheck. As of now we have no advertis- 
ers, but we just went on the air and we're trying to do a 
real hot show," Ray says. 

And it's all because of education. 

"Coming to school is what got me where I am," Ray 
says. "Or else I'd probably be out there mowing yards." 

The Grizzly S 

: . ;, ;.; •■. ..... 3m 



Butler sophomores Kevin Kichler and Jxistin Londagin 
hit the campaign trails in '99 seeking office and speaking 
out against the current political world. 


Stories by Mike Shepherd and 
Dave Kratzer 
Photos by Mike Shepherd | 


Kevin Kichler's no stranger to 
small towns. Born in Fort 
Scott, he moved with his 
parents to Towanda shortly after his 
fourth birthday where he lived until 
he was 18. Then, he moved back to 
southeast Kansas to tiny Strauss for 
awhile while going to school off and 
on in Parsons and Pittsburg and 
working in Girard for a chain restau- 
rant. Now, he's back in Towanda and 
vying for a seat on the city council. 

To say that Kichler is just your 
ordinary political office candidate is 
misleading, by a long shot. To start, 
the 21-year-old community college 
student has no agenda. Instead, he 
says, the best way to lead a city is to 
form decisions on issues as they arise. 
Living in small towns all of his life 
has left him quite skeptical towards 
typical political games. It's alright to 
have opinions on things, but citizens 
ought to know that the people run- 
ning their city could and would make 
educated, not biased, decisions for 

"The council does what the council 
wants and there's no communication 
between them and the residents. I 
want to open up communication 
between the two," Kichler says. 

Although that appears to be the 
case with just about any city or state 
government, Kichler says it is espe- 


daily true of small towns. In fact, it is 
that "small town" image he wants to 
get rid of. 

"Group A will do anything to stop 
Group B from doing what it 
wants-even if it is right for the city," 
he says. "I want to get rid of that." 

To start, Kichler wants to cut down 
on the number of executive sessions 
the council retreats to. 

"Any time they want to make a 
decision or discuss something that 
could be controversial, they go behind 
closed doors to keep the community 
out of it," Kichler notices of current 
meeting procedures. "I think the com- 
munity should be the most involved." 

But, he doesn't know for sure if he 
would have much luck at that. If he 
had been elected this spring to one of 
the three open seats, he would have 
been one voice out of six. He lost, 
though, finishing fifth out of six. His 
would 've-been colleagues should 
know that he wouldn't necessarily be 
just another voice spewing their ideas. 
And, he concedes, the way things are 
is the way it's always been. Not only 
in Towanda, but elsewhere. 

"That's the way it's always been 

Nobody in the town knows what's 

going on. People want to know but 

the council hasn't told them." 

done. I guess that's just the way it 
goes, it's been like that everywhere 
I've been," he says. 

He's relying on his upbringing to 
take care of that. 

"We should take care of us first," 
Kichler says. "Let's not feed the peo- 
ple in Africa; we need to straighten up 
our problems first before we worry 
about others." 

And right now, that big problem in 
Towanda is getting the mileage signs 
put back up along the newly finished 
K-254 Highway. Back when the old 
two-lane went right through the heart 
of Towanda, there were signs on 
either side of the town notifying 
motorists of the miles remaining until 
the town. Now, those same motorists 
can fly right by Towanda at 70 or 
more and not even know it's there. 

"We're not even out there any- 
more," Kichler says. "And the council 
is trying to figure this out for them- 
selves-negotiating with the state. 

"Nobody in the town knows 
what's really going on. People want to 
know but the council hasn't told 

And Kevin Kichler should know; 
he's a cook at the Rusty Bucket Cafe 
on the eastern edge of Towanda. 

"Working in the diner, I see more of 
the community than they do, I think, 
because I'm out in it. 

"But, I like cookin'." 

& The Grizzly 

IB I BS B I S I ( ? i 


I Q 


"ustin Londagin is like many 
Butler students. He has a part- 
time job to make ends meet. In 
his*case, he works at Dairy Queen in 
Augusta. He considers it ground zero 
for public dialog about civic issues 
that affect local taxpayers. 

While he's cleaning tables and 
waiting on customers, however, 
Londagin is doing much more than 
earning a paycheck. He's keeping his 
finger on the pulse of the community, 
which is essential for the 20-year-old 
politician who ran for Augusta's USD 
402 school board in March. 

"I meet all kinds of different people 

and hear what they think," Londagin 
says. "If something important goes on 
in this community, you'll hear about it 
at Dairy Queen. That's what I like 
about the job." 

Unfortunately for Londagin, he fin- 
ished a distant third in his school 
board quest. 

But his recent foray into politics 
isn't his first. In 1996, he ran for 
District 77's Kansas House of 
Representatives seat. Operating on a 
shoestring budget and running as a 
Democrat, Londagin lost in the 
August primary that year, but learned 
valuable lessons about the realities of 

One was that a shrewd candidate 
shouldn't answer position surveys 
sent to him by special interest groups. 
Another lesson was that a politician 
needs to be an effective public speak- 
er. Still another was how to buy cam- 
paign advertising cheaply. And final- 
ly, he learned that while he likes poli- 
tics—and might make a career of it— he 
doesn't want to be a perennial candi- 

"I'd rather be the person behind 

the scenes telling others how to run 
their campaigns." 

The 1997 graduate of Augusta High 
School decided to run for the board of 
education because he felt the district 
needed to work harder to improve 
technology available to students, 
improve graduation rates and "cut- 
ting district waste." 

And how did voters react to his 

"If everybody who says 'Good 
luck, we need fresh blood,' and really 
means it, then I should do well. I've 
had nothing but good comments," he 
said a week before the March 2 prima- 

Londagin was one of four candi- 
dates, one of whom is an incumbent. 
The day after the election, he chalked 
up the defeat at the polls to Augusta's 
unwillingness to allow younger citi- 
zens to lead. 

"If you're young and not a star ath- 
lete in Augusta, then the city's not 
going to give you a shot," he con- 
tends. "But I might try it 
again... maybe somewhere else, or 
maybe when I get older." 


If you're young and not a star athlete in Augusta, 
then the city's not going to give you a shot." 

The Grrizzly 


id to Clark's Unif orms 

v M 8 &'■ wSw ?! S ftBTwa^l 2> 

The Grizzly 


There are nine full-time doctors on call at Butler, 

including Kim Karr and Rick Hansen, to help fix 

the questions the mind, not an ailing body. That, 

says Karr, is the hardest stereotype to overcome. 

"I have a few friends who are MDs and I tell 

them that they aren't real doctors. But that's what 

everyone thinks. People who don't know me 

think I can fix their ailments." 

Story by 

Travis Milne 


Photo Illustration by 
Mike Shepherd 

Economics instructor Rick Hansen has 
fought the same struggle some of us 
have when it comes to finishing college. 
With a C+ high school average, Hansen 
describes himself then as a "very indifferent 
student." As a result, he actually flunked out 
of Blackhawk Community College near his 
hometown in Illinois his first time around. It 
wasn't until he returned to the States after 
serving a tour in Vietnam that he realized 
he'd better go to school and do something, 

"I got back from Nam and was four years 
older and wiser. I also had a wife and 
kids-that makes all the difference in the 
world," Hansen says. 

Hansen realized real quick that if he were 
to successfully support a family, he'd better 
get an education so that he'd have the 
resource to do that. So he embarked on yet 
another college career, this time at St. 
Ambrose in Davenport, Iowa. It was during 
that time that he took an economics class, and 
it changed his whole ho-hum outlook toward 

Today, he is Rick Hansen, Ph.D in 
Economics, and he's teaching at Butler. 

Tire Grx*iz5Ely XX 

"Having a Ph.D. gives me the confidence that 

I have a fairly good knowledge of the 

subject area, which always helps if you're going to teach it. 

In fact, there are a handful of doctors on campus, and 
no, they probably can't help you if you get hurt sick, 
Instead, these doctors are instructors with a doctorate 

"I'm a real doctor; I'm a Ph.D not an MD," laughs Kim 
Karr, instructor in chemistry. "I have a few friends who are 
MDs and I tell them that they aren't real doctors. But that's 
what everyone thinks. People that don't know me think I 
can fix their ailments." 

Including Hansen and Karr, there are nine full-time 
instructors with Ph.Ds. They are: Gary Holmes, a chem- 
istry instructor; Carol Lang, a foreign language instructor; 
Bill Langley, a biological and environmental science 
instructor; Ruth Meyer, a math instructor; Dan Muhwezi, a 
behavioral science instructor; Phil Speary, a theater, speech 
and English instructor; and Regina Turner, who teaches 
philosophy and religion. 

There are also three administrators on campus who 
have Ph.Ds: Gene George, the director of research and 
institutional effectiveness; Jackie Vietti, the president of the 
college; and Leanne Ellis, vice president of academic 

They all have different reasons for getting a Ph.D. When 
asked why she got hers, Meyer replies, "For the challenge. 
In France, the schooling is much harder, and so when I 
came back to the U.S., I wanted to be challenged like I was 
over there." 

Hansen says that the reason he got his was because he 
couldn't teach at universities without one. This was a com- 
mon answer, and when asked why they came to Butler 
after getting a Ph.D. some say it was to get to spend more 
time teaching and less time doing research. 

"I have published and I have done the research, but it 
just got to the point that it wasn't fun anymore," Hansen 
says. "I'd rather be teaching." 

"At the time, I was wanting to go into professional the- 
ater, and actually wanted to get a Master of Fine Arts, but 
the faculty at Ohio State wanted me to get a Ph. D. because 
they could offer me a better financial package. It was bet- 
ter for them if I got a one," Speary says. 

At what point did they decide to get a Ph. D.? 

"Some time while I was working on my Masters 
Degree... it wasn't from the beginning. In the very begin- 
ning I had no intention of going to college. But my dad 
made me go and once I got into philosophy, I really liked 
it," Turner says. 

"That was the original intent for starting college, was to 
go all the way through, and then I went ahead and decid- 
ed to do it because I if I quit I knew wouldn't go back," 
Holmes says. 

To get a Ph. D., one has to go to school for many years. 
"I started college in 1975, and finished in 1991," Turner 
says, although she does admit that she took a couple of 
years off to work. 

So if it takes this long to get a Ph.D., do these teachers 
get more respect here because of their hard work? 

"I think teachers here are all respected. There is a 
friendly work place here," Lang says. 

Dr. Langley has a different twist on it. 

"I don't know. I can't say one way or another. Getting a 
Ph.D. in the academic world is a level or a hoop that you 
have to jump through. I'm glad I went back and got it, but 
I don't think that it is necessary to do what I do. It was just 
something I wanted to do on a personal level." 

So if a Ph.D. doesn't necessarily get you more respect 
here, what does it do for you? 

"It's done a lot. I think having a Ph.D. gives me the con- 
fidence that I have a fairly good knowledge of the subject 
area, which always helps if you're going to teach it," 
Holmes explains. 

"It opened the door to grants," Lang says. 

"It taught me how to learn," Karr says. "And it taught 
me that you don't have to be Einstein to get one." 

So if you want to get a Ph.D., remember that although it 
takes years of hard work, it is not as daunting as some 
think. "Anyone who is willing to put the effort into it can 
get a Ph.D.," says Dr. Karr. 

"Getting a Ph. D. in the academic world is a hoop 

that you have to jump through. 

It was just something I wanted to do on a personal level." 

12 The Grizzly 

€rx»izzly Sp otlight 

Derby freshman Carly Richards, left, swing dances with 
University of Missouri freshman Marc Krejci in the Student 
Union on April 9 as part of the student government-sponsored 
event. Photo by Mike Shepherd. 

The Grizzly 13 

Students learn the ropes of 
law enforcement from true 

he Administration of Justice program at Butler 
teaches its students about the careers related to its 
fields of study and allows students to learn through 
experiences that their instructors have had. 

"Historically we have said that this is a general pro- 
gram for criminal justice, but any more we try to direct a 
student into a specialty of some kind, so we try to tailor a 
program to meet their individual needs," Miles Erpelding, 
lead instructor, says. "They have that advantage and they 
work day-in, day-out in their criminal justice field. It is an 
incredible experience." 

A Butler graduate himself, Dean Deines is a sergeant 
with the Butler County Sheriff's Department, who is in 
charge of training and grant applications. In his classes he 
stresses that professionalism and integrity are important 
in his line of work. "If jeopardized you can lose your 
career," Deines says. He believes that giving them theory 
with practical hands on experience is a great way students 
can learn procedures for their field of study. Whether that 
is in the law enforcement track, the court or judicial sys- 
tem track, or the corrections track. 

"The Administration of Justice program here is so much 
more than I expected. I have great teachers who really 
want to see me and others succeed," says Cunningham 

The Grizzly 

freshman Julie Goetz. 

Before his tenure at Butler, Miles Erpelding worked five 
years as a court service officer and eight years as chief 
court service officer for the 13th judicial district. 

"Prior to taking the lead instructor position, I was an 
adjunct instructor for four years, while still working in the 
judiciary system. That's some of the richest teaching 
moments I think I've had-when I could actually take the 
day-to-day operations 
of the job and bring it 
to the classroom in the 
evening," Erpelding 
says. The day-to-day 
operations and events 
that happened during 

his day enabled him to re-enforce the text and information 
the students were learning in class. 

"The adjunct teachers like to be in the classroom 
because they like to share that knowledge with students," 
Erpelding says. "I think that what a lot of their motivation 
is that they love what they're doing and they like to share 
that knowledge with others. That is the reason they are 
here," Erpelding says. "At least that's the perspective that 
I came from when I was with the court. I was real excited 
to have my first opportunity to teach out here because I 
thought, 'Man I not only get to apply my knowledge, now 
I get to share it with somebody else.'" 

Butler's Administration of Justice program uses its text 
and real life circumstances, and it also uses some hands-on 
material in class. For instance, the students in the Gang 
Investigation class, held in Andover on Wednesday nights, 
were able to go out on the streets with officers from the 
Sedgwick and Butler County sheriff's offices. This allowed 
students like Wilson Wanjigi, a Kenya sophomore, to see 
and experience the daily events of a deputy first hand. On 
Wanjigi's ride-along, he was shown how to run radar, how 
to do security checks on local businesses and how to 
respond to domestic complaints. As an assignment for 
Gang Investigation, students from this class were able to 
schedule a time slot for their ride-along. This class is just 
one of the many classes offered within the law enforce- 
ment track. 

"We get hands on experience, which really helps us a 
lot. Even if the situation is not real, it makes us use our 
learned responses to the situation as if it were real," Goetz 

Guest presenters are just another avenue the 
Administration of Justice program uses to educate its stu- 
dents in class. These are professionals who work in the 
field and have experiences that back up the text and also 
information about the procedures in their field. So far this 
semester students have been able to talk to two communi- 
ty corrections officers about their field. They not only have 
guest presenters but also they are able to go out with the 
classes to sites like the El Dorado Correctional Facility, the 
court house here in El Dorado and to other facilities relat- 
ed to the three career tracks. 

"We are progressively moving forward in technology in 
this program out here. I went to the academia of criminal 

justice sciences conference in Orlando a week ago. The 
devotion of my time was spent on the two panels of tech- 
nology," Erpelding says. Erpelding also plans to integrate 
Power Point and other technology-oriented material. Like 
some interactive programs, that will put a student into a 
simulation directed towards their fields. An example of 
this is a normal traffic stop where a student would tell the 
computer what to do and the officer should follow. He 

hopes both of these will be ready for the fall semester. 

"We have a lot of opportunities in each one of these 
classes to go out in the field and to make field visits; to 
have them actually see mechanically what is going on and 
how the system is actually operated. It all depends on 
what class it is to what focus we take," says Erpelding. 

The Criminal Investigations class can go and visit the 
forensic lab in Wichita to help students see the importance 

Wichita sophomore Michelle Lamm practices finger printing 
techniques on a classmate in her Criminal Investigations class. 

The Grx»i^5Ery 15 

Above: Sedgwick sophomore Chad Smiley carefully dusts a 
coffee mug for finger prints in class, while Below: Wichita State 
junior Wilson Wanjigi gets ready for a ride along with 
Sedgwick County Sheriff's Deputy Matt Schroeder. 

of knowing how to handle crime scene material, and how 
and why some evidence is used in the court and judicial 

"I get them out into the field as much as I can. 
Academia is important to them, although they need to 
learn all the principles before we get them out into the 
field. So they can associate then the principles in the class 
room discussions and the principles in the text to the actu- 
al field activities and what happens in the field itself," 
Erpelding says. 

"The required standards for entry into the profession of 
criminal justice are continuing to rise. If it is not a required 
aspect to get the job, it may be a requirement for promo- 
tional opportunities," Erpelding says. 

Some of his students in his class are from area depart- 
ments, including the Wichita Police Department, who are 
coming back to school in order to get a promotion. 

"I would tell an incoming student that it is a very 
dynamic and rewarding field. They should be committed 
to the profession when they walk into the doors of acade- 
mia or into their chosen field or department," Erpelding 
says. "They should be committed to the task of helping 
and serving people. That is what the criminal justice pro- 
gram and field is about, ultimately providing a service to 
society and providing that service through law enforce- 
ment, the courts and judicial process or the form of correc- 
tions. They have to be really committed to providing ser- 
vice to the public." 

The Grizzly 


Saline County is not unlike any other county when it comes to 
dealing with crime and criminals-it has its share. And though its 
jail has 30 beds open, its sheriff's department is short on help, 
which means everyone is working overtime. 

Story and photos by Mike Shepherd 

Two visitors tap on the control 
room's reception window at 
the Saline County jail 
demanding to see their loved one, but 
the only officer in the control room is 
busy, opening the computer-con- 
trolled doors throughout the jail. The 
lobby window and the control board 
are 30 feet apart and Deputy Jason 
Lewis is manning both. 

"It's quiet in the jail tonight, but it's 
crazy in here," Lewis says. 

And so it is on most days, because 
of the sheriff's department inability to 
hire and retain deputies in the jail. 
Since the beginning of 1997, the sher- 
iff's department has gone through 64 
people trying to fill a staff of 40. 

Currently, they are short three officers 
and one part-time cook. As a result, 
some officers have to do more than 
one job at a time. Sometimes jobs do 
not get done at all, such as regular cell 

Part of the personnel problem lies 
with the correction officers' personal 
desires to move to road patrol. As it is 
now, when a deputy is hired, they 
start in the jail as a correction officer 
with the opportunity to move to road 
patrol when a position becomes avail- 
able. But a larger factor is the pay. A 
starting sheriff's deputy assigned to 
corrections in Saline County makes 
$9.17 an hour. A new-hire assigned to 
patrol would make $10.91 an hour, 

however, no new-hires start on road 
patrol. Or, the same new-hire could go 
next door to the Salina police depart- 
ment - and start on road patrol - for 
$11.80 an hour, according to Dave 
Dunstan, deputy chief of the Salina 

Sheriff Glen Kochanowski says the 
wages in his agency are not near 
enough for what these men and 
women have to put up with night and 
day, everyday. 

"They have to have to work in the 
jail with inmates, with the amount of 
danger that's in there, the amount of 
health problems in there, all the time. 
These aren't pillars of the community 
that they're working with; they're 

"When you talk to the people that 
leave, the majority are leaving 
because they are going to something 
that's going to pay them more," 
Kochanowski says. "We just had a 
deputy leave to go to Louisiana to 
work on the docks. He's married and 
has two kids. He left for one reason: 

To contend with a shortage of help, 
the sheriff's department has brought 
in four retirees to run the transporta- 

The Grizzly XT 

Above: Deputy Jason Lewis uses a flashlight to surprise sleep- 
ing inmates during a late-night cell search. Searches like these, 
however, are seldom done because there is not enough man- 
power to do them. Right: Checking each food tray is a tedious 
job, but someone has to do it, and on this night it's Deputy 
Stephen Young. The Saline County jail can hold up to 192 

tion routes, which includes court appearances and trans- 
ferring inmates between Saline County and other jails and 
prisons. All are certified sheriff's deputies. 

Sheriff's deputy Jim Parker can tell you all kinds of sto- 
ries about the dangers and emotions about working in a 

Sometimes, an arresting officer will fail to properly 
search a suspect before he is brought in. When this hap- 
pens, a corrections officer has to be on his or her toes when 
booking someone it. Otherwise, a gun, knife, or razor 
could find its way into the jail. By the way, the officers 

inside the jail are unarmed. They don't carry a gun or an 
asp. They only thing protecting them is their skin. 

Should an inmate or group of inmates decide to attack 
an officer, "What are we going to do but stand there and 
get hurt?" Parker asks. 

"If we were to have a fight, we only have two or three 
officers that can respond - those aren't good odds. 
Remember, we have murderers and all kinds of scum in 
here," Lewis says. First and second shifts have seven mini- 
mum positions and third shift only has five. Some of the 
officers cannot leave their posts; this is why there are a 

An inmate at the 

Saline County jail 

is fitted with belly 

chains before being 

transported to court. 

Other inmates wait 

in the background. 

A shortage of 

correction officers is 

forcing those 

currently employed 

at the jail to 

perform multiple 


limited number of officers that can respond. If the control 
room officer leaves, for instance, then nobody would be 
able to get in or out of the jail because all of the doors are 
opened by a computer in that room. 

Then, there are the times when emotions run high. 

There was a time when Parker was booking in a man 
who had been arrested on charges of child -molestation. 
During the booking process, Parker asked him if he would 
do it again and the man said 'yes,' ne would, because he 
liked it, Parker says. 

"It was all I could do to keep from reaching across the 
table and choking him. Of course, my son was seven at the 
time," he said. 

Other officers have stories to tell, too. 

On a particular Wednesday morning, four inmates were 
being prepared to be transported to the prison in Topeka. 
The last inmate to be brought from his cell was the 
deputies' least favorite. 

"His favorite words to say to me are, 'I want to touch 
you,'" deputy Alicia Shakespear says with a shiver. "That 
just really bothers me." 

"The things that happen in here that make people on 
the outside go 'wow!' happens everyday in here, every- 
day," Parker says. 

Sheriff Kochanowski is quick to point out that the job 
descriptions between his correction officers and patrol 
deputies are considerably different, but the danger the cor- 
rection officers face might be even greater than what the 

road patrol faces. 

"True, you don't know what is going to come out of a 
car when you pull it over and back there you do know 
how dangerous they are but you still don't have any idea 
what you're going to walk into when you get in with some 
of those prisoners," he says. 

He was referring to a "shank" made by a prisoner out 
of a jail-issued pocket comb and window putty. 

"This stuff is made back there and it's made for a pur- 
pose: to hurt somebody. They could just as easily hurt a 
young person working back there as well as another 

Top: With the watchful eyes of inmates on him, 
Deputy Glen Godsey radios back to the control 
room from inside one of the maximum security 
units at the Saline County jail. Left: Deputy Godsey 
goes through the property of an inmate looking for 
a book that the inmate had requested. When a per- 
son is booked into the jail, all of their property is 
taken and placed in a green bag, and then put in the 
basement with everyone else's. 

IIMSI '99 

Kansas State University and 

The Salina Journal 

Photojournalism Project 







- Si 

-■'■\ ,-;:.-■ 


.■' V «@K 

9 1 raHSI 





■ Bma zg^iPi ! !, 

A bucket of practice softballs wait for warm-ups to begin while head coach Brad Horky 
goes over strategies in the outfield for the upcoming game. 

Katie Carlson, Bonnie Jones, and Aryn McCoy cheer on a teammate after a base hit in a 
game in East Park against Colby. The Lady Grizzlies split the double-header. 

Who knew? 

Another Butler team-this time the Lady Grizzlies of 
softball-lands itself in a national poll. 

Story by Jennifer Elliott • Photos by Mike Shepherd 

Here's something you probably didn't 
know: The Lady Grizzly softball team is 
nationally ranked-number 19, in fact, at 
last count. And as high as number 13. 

But by watching them play, you'd never be able 
to tell. It's not that they play bad ball. But when 
things are going their way, the atmosphere which 
surrounds them is not the kind of confidence and 
satisfaction you'd expect out of a top twenty team. 

Head coach Brad Horky feels that his team has 
had better coverage this year than any other, and is 
pleased with the direction the team is heading. 

"We are currently in the position to win the con- 
ference and also the 
region six tournament," 
he says. 

Much of the team's suc- 
cess has been attributed to 
Renae Shaw, Wichita 
freshman. Her pitching 
has earned her the name 
of being the nation's lead- 
ing pitcher, with a 17-3 
record with an ERA of 
1.53. She also bats a .357 
with 18 RBIs. 

Nikki Scholer, a fresh- 

A Colby baserunner eludes the tag of Butler short 
stop Jamie Combs in a game this spring. 

man from Canada has also been a huge contributor 
to the Grizzlies success. She is one of the leading 
hitters in the region, batting .437. 

Another key player is Renee Slatier, a sopho- 
more from Blue Springs, Missouri. Slatier is an 
outfielder and also pitches for the Lady Grizzlies. 
Her batting average of .397 has also made her key 
in the offense. Slatier, along with teammate Shaw, 
have been referred to by Coach Horky as the go-to 

"Both are hitting the ball and pitching very 
well," he says. 

The success of the team is apparent, and with all 

successful teams, leader- 
ship is a must. For the 
Lady Grizzlies, leadership 
comes from behind the 
plate. Sophomore catcher 
Aryn McCoy from Topeka 
displays most of the 
enthusiasm that the team 
thrives on. 

"She leads us, for 
sure," Coach Horky says. 
"She's been a valuable 
factor in winning our 

The Griz^ry 21 



Pitchers John Harrison, left, and Scott Tallman, take in a baseball game from a couple of 
milk crates rather than sitting on the bench in the dugout. 

A day at the ballpark 

Photos by Mike Shepherd 

Cody Sowder, right, sits in the announcer's booth 
announcing batters and operating the scoreboard with his 
girlfriend Macy Fairman. Sowder, a sophomore player, is 
red-shirted this season after having surgery on his elbow. 

The Grizzlies' Mike Converse is tagged out at third base after 
trying to advance on a base hit in a game with Brown Mackie. 
Butler won both games to extend their winning streak to 14. 

Unlike football or basketball-sports that pack in the fans 
regardless of the opponent-the baseball team often plays in 
front of empty stands. A handful of boosters and some 
students were about all who attended the Brown Mackie 

Butler's pitching staff-including Mike McCuan, Mark Stander, 
Blake Schmidtberger and Travis Tunnell-sit through the game on 
the bench in the bullpen. 

The Grizzly 23 

Rob Marney hurdles the barrier preceding the water pit in the steeple-jump race at the K.T. 
Woodman Relays on April 10 at Wichita State. 

Rob Marney yells 
encouragement to a 
teammate as he rounds the 
corner of the track at WSU. 

Story and photos by Mike Shepherd 

lowin' away old records 

In the basement of the 500 Building is the locker room 
for the men's and women's track and cross country 
teams. It's a small room, really, that is shared by both 
genders. Along the east wall at the floor is a giant reflec- 
tive green road sign that says, "1995 National Cross 
County Champions." The sign used to be up on the turn- 
pike, but it was taken down last winter, after the football 
team won its national championship. The whole thing gets 
Rob Marney, a freshman runner from Wyoming, a little 

"And we're goin' to have another one up there next 
year-cause football's goin' down, baby!" he shouts. 

When you have a team that has consistently finished in 
the top five as Butler's men's team has done, it is easy not 
to get excited about breaking a school record, especially if 
it is your own. But the men and women of Butler have 
done it at least 11 times. As freshman Cindy Dietrich 
points out, after a while, it's easy to lose track. 

"I don't know how many times I've broken my record," 
she admits. "I'd have to look and see how many meets 
we've had. At least four, I guess." 

"Several were set several times, probably," says head 
coach Fred Torneden. "It's hard to keep track when you're 
breaking every week." 

This year's men's record holders include John Matheri 
in the 600 yards and meters, and 800 meters. His best time 
in the 600 meters of 1:17.19 is also a national meet record 
along with being an all-time collegiate record. 

"No one on the collegiate level has ever ran that race 
faster," Torneden says. 

Moses Gathuka holds the record in 1000 meters and the 
mile. Elias Thuo holds the record in the 3000 and 5000 

As far as Dietrich goes, she holds the school record in 
the 800 and 1000 meters and the mile. And she still isn't 
sure how many times she's broken her old record. 
Although, she is the indoor champion in the 800 meters. 

"I believe that Cindy is the first Butler female track ath- 
lete to win nationals," coach Torneden says. "Cindy works 

so hard doing everything we ask her to do to succeed as 
an athlete. We are so excited for her to win." 

Some of the football players may disagree, but by judg- 
ing from this year's track performance, Rob Marney may 

just be right about having a 
new sign on the highway a 
year from now. 

v. "'■ 




ly _/< 




■"."-■ -n 

~ m 


Below: The early-morning sun 
catches the face of Cindy 
Dietrich as she stretches for her 
race in the K.T. Woodman 
Relays at Wichita State on 
April 10. 

Left: Dietrich moves up on her 
opponent during the last lap of 
the 1000 meters. She pulled 
ahead in the last lap to win. 
Dietrich holds Butler's female 
record in the event with a time 
of 2:59.44. 

The GrrMscry 25 


"n 1996, the state hospital in Winfield closed, sending more than 200 
dependent adults back into a society that was unable to care for them 

-in the first place. While the unemployed scrambled to find new jobs, 
parents and guardians of those left homeless scrambled to find suitable 
housing for their loved ones. Their remedy: Creative Community Living, a 
non-profit organization created solely for the purpose of serving those who 
need the help. Five of their houses are in El Dorado. 

According to one CCL worker, talking about people with severe and mul- 
tiple, physical and mental disabilities is considered taboo to many "nor- 
mal" folks. But inside the five CCL houses in El Dorado, the lives of those 
people are the center of the world. 

Story by Jennifer Elliott • Photographs by Mike Shepherd 


- ■ ''■" '- 


All the lights are on, the 
TV is blaring, and the 
radio is broadcasting the 
Top 20. The noise is a 
constant, but no one 
seems to notice. A man sits in a chair 
looking at his fingers and another lies 
on the floor, watching the ceiling. No 
one bothers to notice when a stranger 
knocks at the door or crosses over the 
threshold and into the noisy room in 
which they all sit. There is no sign of 
emotion on any of the men's faces, 
until a smiling young man named 

non-profit organization that was start- 
ed in November of 1996 by the par- 
ents and guardians of people who 
were affected by the closing of the 
Winfield State Hospital. When the 
hospital closed, 225 men and women 
were left homeless and their families 
left with the dilemma of finding suit- 
able living environments for them. 

"Individuals were placed at 
Winfield State Hospital because soci- 
ety was not prepared to assist them in 
living more independently," says 
CCL's program director Linda Misasi. 

I'm not here to control them. I'm 
simply here to help." 

John walks into the living room from 
the kitchen where he was preparing 
breakfast. One man looks up, and his 
eyes dance with excitement. 

"How's it going, Christian?" John 
asks with enthusiasm. 

The man, between his smile, slurs 
back something that only Jon can 
understand and reaches his hand out 
to touch him. John gives him a loving 
pat on the back and goes over to the 
man lying on the floor to acknowl- 
edge him. He stoops down to pick 
him up and carefully sits him on the 

"Now you can see the TV better." 

John stands up and grins satisfac- 
tion. He has taken care of his guys. He 
has touched them. And he feels good 
about it. 

"They are like my family, some- 
times like my brothers, and some- 
times like my children," says John. 

Children? At heart, maybe, but def- 

And, she says, because the other 
agencies that already existed before 
the hospital was closed were general- 
ly not prepared to assist individuals 
with the severe physical and mental 
disabilities, "CCL developed to fill the 
gap in services." 

Thus, five houses in El Dorado 
were transformed into "homes" for 
30 men and women from the state 
facility. In all, CCL serves 102 people 
in Butler and Cowley counties. These 
homes are constantly staffed with 
men and women dedicated to provid- 
ing the highest quality of life to the 
people they are serving. One man on 
staff is John Matheri. 

John Kimatherikinene (Matheri for 
short, and also referred to as Big John 
for simplicity's sake) is a full-time stu- 
dent at Butler County Community 
College. He comes to Butler from 
Nairobi, Kenya, on a cross country 
and track scholarship. During his first, 

"Sometimes, if school has been too 

tough, I want to go home and rest, 

but then I think of my guys and it 

gives me the motivation 

I was lacking." 

initely not physically. The men he is 
referring to range between the ages of 
37 and 52, and are all living in a 
Creative Community Living home. 
Creative Community Living is a 

and only, year in El Dorado, he has 
made quite a name for himself. So far, 
he has managed to gain two All- 
American titles in the indoor and out- 
door 800-meters in track, he has bro- 

ken seven school 
records, and recorded 
the fastest time in the 
nation in not only the 
800-meters, but in the 
600-sprint as well. He 
runs an average of 20 
miles a day, and tries to 
reach a goal of 120 miles 
each week. 

In addition to his run- 
ning, John spends an 
admirable amount of 
time on his school work. 
He is majoring in physi- 
cal therapy at the 
moment, but plans to be 
a doctor someday. His 
goal is to eventually 
become a brain surgeon. 
His mother, who was a 
nurse in Kenya before 
having her seven chil- 
dren, dreams for Jon to 
become a doctor. 

"I will die to make 
that come true for her," 
John says confidently. 

As if John does not 
have a heavy enough 
load, he spends 20 hours 
of his weekends, since 
May of 1998, working in 
a Creative Community 
Living home. One would 
think that with all he has 
going on during the 
week he might want his 
weekends off. Does he mind sharing 
his time? 

"Of course not! I love my job. 
Sometimes after I've had a hard prac- 
tice, or school has been too tough, I 
want to go home and rest, but then I 
think of my guys here at CCL and it 
gives me the motivation I was lacking. 
I feel fortunate to be able to do the 
things I am doing now and would 
never want to take those things for 

John found out about Creative 
Community Living through a friend 
and knew instantly that it would be 
something he would be interested in. 
He knew it would teach him a lot 
about the ways to care for patients if 
he ever becomes a doctor. 

"The interaction of myself with dif- 
ferent types of people, especially peo- 

28 TKe Grizzly 

David Reid pounds out a tune on his piano for John Matheri, a worker at CCL and Butler student. David, who suffered mental 
retardation after he was exposed to too much oxygen as a baby, has the mentality of a 4-year-old. However, he can repeat a song 
on the piano after hearing it one time. 

pie as special as the ones I am work- 
ing with, will definitely help me to 
become a great doctor in the future." 

A day's worth of work for CCL 
employees consists of the same duties 
a person would do around their own 
home. The staff prepares meals for the 
residents, helps them to bathe and 
clean up, gives them medicine, and 
entertains them. In some homes, 
unlike Jon's, the residents are unable 
to take care of themselves in any man- 
ner at all. They need to be changed, 
fed, bathed, and cared for such as an 
infant might be. Some of these people 
are in wheelchairs, blind, deaf, or in 
some other way disabled. 

"All of the individuals served by 
CCL are diagnosed as mentally 
retarded. Some individuals have 
other diagnoses," Misasi says. "Those 
served by by CCL, in general, are 
among the most severely disabled in 
the state as measured by state-recog- 
nized assessment tools." 

In John's case, the men of his house 
are totally capable of doing every- 
thing on their own. Usually they just 
require a little bit of assistance. 

"I am not here to control them," 
John says, "I am simply here to help." 

Christy Jones, another Butler stu- 
dent and CCL staff member, works in 
a home where the residents require 

total care. None of the people she 
cares for are able to talk. Some of 
them use flashcards and are able to 
express themselves through facial 
expressions. All of them are in wheel- 
chairs and three feed through tubes in 
their stomachs rather than ingesting 
through their mouths. 

"Taking care of them can definitely 
be frustrating," Christy says. "But the 
satisfaction in the way I have been 
able to develop relationships with 
each one of them far outweigh the 

Like Christy's, John's relationship 
with the men in his house is special. 
He holds a special bond with each 

The Grizzly 2JO 

Below: Christy Jones holds the hand of the 

CCL residents she cares for. Physical 

interaction serves as a means of 

expression for those who 

otherwise cannot communicate. 

Right: Sandy Roadenbaugh gets a positive 

reaction from Sharon Schmidt after tricking 

her in a game of Connect Four. At first, 

Sharon was mad, then she figured out that 

Sandy was the culprit. 


• •••* 

• •## 




, /In i'A 



one of them. John is able to define a 
special characteristic that sets each 
man apart from the other. One man, 
for instance, walks a path around the 
home all day long. Another is capable 
of walking, but usually chooses to 
have one of the staff members carry 
him from place to place. One blind 
man can play the piano like no one 
you have ever heard before. He can 
pick up any song he hears, and play it 
perfectly the first time. 

The men and women of CCL par- 
ticipate in many community func- 
tions. They often attend El Dorado 
school and BCCC activities, whether it 
be concerts, plays, or athletics. On 
Tuesday mornings, the staff of 
Creative Community Living take the 
residents of their homes to a coffee 
group session. 

"My guys love to do anything," 
John states proudly. "They love to 
simply go for a ride in the van, or go 
to the movies, or bowling. They play 
games, paint, and play the piano. 
They also spend time with Princess, 
the Golden Retriever that lives with 
them. They just enjoy life, even the 
minor parts." 

Taking the men and women out in 
public is a definite reward for the staff 
at CCL. 

"To see their faces light up at the 
new scenery is the most fulfilling part 
of my job, however, it can sometimes 
lead to heartache. Occasionally, when 
we go somewhere there will be a curi- 
ous child or an ignorant adult who 
wants to either stare at the guys or 
ignore them completely. When people 
do this, my guys don't understand. 

"Occasionally, there will be an 

ignorant adult who wants to 

stare at the guys. We just explain 

to them that we are the ones who 

take care of them." 

30 The Grizzly 

We (the staff) just explain to them that 
we are the ones who take care of 
them. We are the one's who are on 
staff. This seems to help them come to 
a better comprehension without hurt- 
ing their feelings," John explains. 
"They are so curious and eager to 
interact with everything. All I do is 
try to make this as easy as possible." 

Working at CCL has also proved to 
be a good learning experience for 
non-traditional Butler student Sandy 
Roadenbaugh. The men and women 
in Sandy's house are able to care for 
themselves much like the men in 
John's house. Most of them need help 
bathing and need to be on a bath- 
room schedule. The most rewarding 
part of Sandy's job has been the times 
when she's seen several people in her 
house make improvements or con- 
quer goals they had set for them- 
selves. For example, in her house, 
there is a woman named Sharon, who 
lived what most would call a normal 
life up until a car accident when she 
was 17. She has been in a wheelchair, 
and unable to verbally communicate, 
since then. 

"Sharon's been one of the resident's 
here who has been the most interest- 

ing to figure out," Sandy says. "No 
one knows how much of her life she 
remembers before the accident, so 
sometimes it's interesting to watch 
her eyes to see if she's able to under- 
stand her situation now." 

Sandy also recalls a time when 
Sharon overcame the odds and was 
able to speak briefly. 

"The rest of the staff and I had 
been constantly reminding Sharon to 
use her spoon when she ate, rather 
than her hands. We had been on her 
about it for weeks, when one night at 
dinner I told her once again to use her 
spoon. She looked up at me with the 
most serious face and asked, 'Why?' 
Until that day, I thought she'd never 
speak. It is that one word I will never 

Much like Sandy, John can also 
remember an event that changed the 
way he looked at his job forever. 

"When I started working here, I 
remember one of the men in particu- 
lar who didn't care for me much. He 
wouldn't let me help him with things 
like showering because, since I am 
black, he was afraid I would turn him 
black, too," John laughs. "But, after 
seeing me handle many of the other 

men, he began to trust me and real- 
ized that I hadn't been turning any of 
them black. He is now my very best 

Sandy says that not being able to 
figure out a resident, or seeing them 
upset for an unknown reason can 
make her crazy. 

"When you can't get into their 

Schadegg of El 
Dorado works at 
the CCL house on 
Street, where all 
of the residents 
are unable to 
walk or speak. 
She says 
spending time 
with each one 
ndividually is 
necessary yet 

is going to be like next week or what 
the current standings are on the 

Residents of Creative Community 
Living homes are as full of life as the 
next guy. They are eager to experience 
life to it's fullest potential. Many of 
the people with physical handicaps 
are in no mood to use their handicaps 

"When you can't get into their 

heads to figure out what they need, 

it just tears your heart out." 

heads to figure out what they need, it 
just tears your heart out." 

The men back at John's house con- 
vey a child-like humor towards life. 
They enjoy laughing and communi- 
cating. They take the aspects of every- 
day life that many overlook and turn 
them into an adventure. 
Preoccupations with the small, yet 
stressful, trials of life do not apply to 
these men. They stay more concerned 
with getting to go to church on 
Sundays to fold flyers, a job many 
would dread, than what the weather 

as excuses to let life pass them by. In 
fact, they convey more energy and 
spirit than most other individuals. 
Watching them is an inspiration. 

It is the things like teaching them 
to use the restroom on their own or 
hearing them speak for the first time 
or touching their emotions deeper 
than you did the time before that 
makes the job rewarding. It is, howev- 
er, a job that not everyone is cut out to 
do. It takes compassion, empathy, 
patience and a desire to help someone 
in need. Those are traits that not 

The Grriac^ry 31 

everyone is born with. You have to be willing to 
devote your time and life to the men and women 
that reside in the CCL homes. 

"It is literally impossible to leave your work at 
work," Sandy says. "Every night, I go home with 
them on my mind." 

That's understandable when you consider taking 
care of the resident has been referred to as taking 
care of children. You don't see many parents who 
are able to get their children out of their heads. 
When you devote so much time and energy to 
someone, you feel like a part of them. Christy Jones 
sees them as a part of her family. It's not easy to 
forget family. 

"They put the fun back into many things for 
me," John says. "I enjoy the regular things more 
now than I ever have. You just have to ask yourself 
what it would be like if you were physically or 
mentally unable to participate in the things you 
love. Looking at it from that perspective made a 
new man out of me." 

Coming from a man who runs 120 miles per 
week, that is a strong statement. John Matheri's 
feelings towards the men he cares for are obvious 
upon talking to him. Seeing the twinkle in his eyes 
and hearing the enthusiasm in his voice when he 
tells about them is proof that he finds his job to be a 
significant tool in shaping the man he is. It takes a 
unique type of person to do the kind of health care 
that John does. It's not everyday that someone 
comes along with the patience and willingness to 
handle the stress that working at Creative 
Community Living can provide. And it is certainly 
not everyday that someone comes along with the 
motivation and understanding to be, not only a 
good caregiver, but a good friend as well. 

John will be leaving El Dorado next year and is 
hopeful to attend Stanford University in California. 
His departure will, of course, mean he will have to 
say his goodbyes to his guys. John is certain, 
though, that he will never forget them, or the expe- 
riences he had at CCL. 

And through all of it, John is sure of one thing. 
"I am supposed to be helping them, but in reality, 
they are helping me more than they'll ever know." 

"You just have to ask 

yourself what it would 

be like if you were 

physically or mentally 

unable to participate in the things you love 

Looking at it from that perspective made a 

new man out of me." 

The Grrizzly 

Above: Christy Jones 
feeds Elliott Hosack 
at dinner time. 
Officials at CCL say 
that they care for 
the most severely 
mentally and 
physically-in the 
state. Below: John 
Matheri watches to 
make sure that 
Bruce Johnson gets 
all of the shell off 
of his Easter egg. 


Phil Theis is going on his 38th year of teaching. He figures he'll be around 
Butler for at least two more years to go out with an even 40. That's a lot of 

But it is that dedication that has earned him the honor of being Kansas' 
1999 Master Teacher, among other awards. Theis was first chosen as Butler's 
Master Teacher in February and was later given the state's recognition in 
April. But he's not willing to take all of the credit. 

"I feel this was an honor because it was my fellow faculty who nominated 
me for it," Theis says. He is also proud because in all the years of Butler's 
award, only one other science instructor has received it. 

It's been 22 years since someone from Butler has been recognized as 
Kansas' Master Teacher. 

The awards haven't stopped there, though. 

Because of his many awards this spring, the city of El Dorado bestowed 
the honor of Distinguished Citizen upon Theis. Being chosen by the mayor 
and city council makes this award "the real honor," he says. 

Photo by Mike Shepherd 



When expanding a shoe wardrobe, don't be afraid 
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girl's wardrobe include heeled black shoes '(City 
Snappers $24) and brown leather granny boots 
(Esprit $48). 



34 The Grizzly 


■seSSS 85 


What's up with girls and their shoes? No 
girl can have too many pairs. These days 
it seems that there is more shoe 
fashion-and big shoes at that-than ever, 
and for every clothing store there is a shoe store to match 
it. Well, they've certainly come a long way from just sad- 
dle shoes and penny loafers. 

Shoes 101 

For hundreds of year's high quality shoes were seen as 
a luxury among the upper class and another way to show 
status or nobility. During the Middle Ages, men's shoes 
had long pointed toes (as long as 24 inches) that were usu- 
ally shaped with whalebone and stuffing. In the sixteenth 
century, women wore platforms not to be fashionable, but 

to keep their skirts and feet out of mud. Platforms weren't 
worn as a fashion until the seventeenth century when 
Louis XIV of France wore them to increase his height. 
Sneakers weren't even introduced until the mid-nineteenth 
century and were only made of canvas, not leather. It was- 
n't until the 1950s when shoe fashion took a dramatic turn 
and began mass-producing various styles of shoes for 
informal occasions, exercise, and different climates. So 
there you have it! A brief history of how your shoes came 
to be. 

Style or comfort? 

In a general survey conducted among female Butler stu- 
dents, they were asked what they look for first when buy- 
ing a shoe. 

The Grx»i5Ez;ly 

Good looking shoes don't have to cost an arm and a leg, 
these chunky-heeled loafers are from Payless Shoe Source 
and cost about $12. 

■ *■ ^-^^iP^^^flr-^^" " "' Ir 

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s*»BI ^Ss '.if, 'HP? :;:f % 

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Survey says! Fifty-two percent choose style over comfort 
(26 percent), price (19 percent), and brand (three percent). 
These few are some of many who aren't ashamed to admit 
that they have those one pair of shoes that are so darn cute, 
but kill their feet. "You have to match your shoes to your 
outfit," says El Dorado sophomore Heather LaRue. "If 
you're going to a nice restaurant and you have a beautiful 
dress on, you're not going to wear your old comfortable 
tennis shoes." 

It's Gotta be the Shoes 

Let's face it, nothing can come between a girl and her 
shoes. More than 61 percent of the girls surveyed consider 
their shoes a major part of their wardrobe, and 84 percent 
agreed that a good pair of shoes can really make an outfit. 
"People don't understand the importance of a good looking 
shoe," says Wichita Eagle fashion reporter Bonnie Bing. "A 
great outfit can be totally ruined by the wrong shoe." 

Shoes Out the Wazoo 

"Why do girls buy 10 different pairs of the same black 
shoe?," asks Wichita sophomore Steve Winters. Well the 
answer is simple if you're a girl. Duh! They're not the same 
at all. You've got your high heel, low heel, square toe, round 
toe, sandal, slingback, dressy, casual... and the list goes on. 
Almost 84 percent of all girls surveyed reported owning at 
least 10 pairs of shoes, though they are probably not all 
black. Bonnie Bing is no exception when it comes to buying 
shoes, "I can't imagine how many pairs of black shoes I 
own, but they range from a high pointed stiletto heel to bal- 
let flats." 

36 The Grizzly 

Guilty Pleasures 

OK, say you found the greatest deal-like 75 percent off on a 
really cool pair of shoes and there is nothing stopping you from 
buying them. Are you going to buy those shoes on impulse 
because you can't turn down a bargain? Or can you really 
accommodate them into your wardrobe? "I'm an impulse shop- 
per/' says LaRue, "if I can get that great a bargain, I can find an 
outfit to match." About 68 percent agreed with Heather. Only 
29 percent of the girls surveyed really can accommodate those 
bargain shoes into their wardrobes. 

What's New? 

This spring and summer the three-and-a-half inch soles of 
the Spice Girls-inspired platforms are going to shrink to a 
lower, but still chunky, style. (By the way, 10 percent of the girls 
surveyed absolutely refuse to wear platforms strictly because 
the Spice Girls do.) 

Expect to see a lot of double strapped sandals in light colors 
and pastels this season. The mule, or slide, is back after a short 
hiatus from 1994; even mary janes, which are supposed to be 
the must-haves this spring, come in a mule but the heel is going 
to be lower and the toe will be more rounded out. Also, be on 
the lookout for espadrilles, or lace up sandals—they're back too, 
and cuter than ever in a slightly-platformed heel and a 
macrame toe. Finally, some cute shoes to take to the pool this 
summer— jelly sandals and decorative flipflops. 

Steve Madden, Doc Martens, Nike, or Candies? What will it 
be the next time you buy a pair of shoes? Whether it's on 
impulse or you've been saving up for months, the next time 
you go shopping, take some of Bonnie Bing's advice: "Shop til 
you drop and then sit down and buy shoes." 

Add some unnecessary color to your otherwise bland shoe 
collection. These buckled sandals in metallic maroon 
(Exhilaration by Target, $14) are perfect for a splash of 
color with black or white clothes. 

The Grizzly 3^J 




:e a 

£ a 


A Dicture"storv bv Mik& Shepkerd 

sBfflEl&Ssr 1 







achelle Kean, pictured here, loves to teach. In fact, she 
lives to teach. On many days, you can find her teaching 
honors science classes at Wichita's North High. The only 
problem is that her salary there doesn't quite cover all of her 
cost of living. To make up for that, she must work a part-time 
job. At her other job as a waitress, the teacher with two bache- 
lor's degrees says she can make more money in tips on one 
weekend than she can teaching in a week. Many late nights 
serving food cuts into the time she could be preparing for class 
or grading papers, and with little other free time, it also cuts 
into just being able to take it easy. Despite the hardships, 
though, she'll always be a teacher. "It's what I was born to do." 

:■ S:i,i:.:,-.*:;.;V.Jj i 

Advisor's note: This was a project that Mike worked on over Christmas 
vacation for the Wichita Eagle. In April, Mike was named Magazine 
Journalist of the Year by the Kansas Associated Collegiate Press. 


Orizzlv Snotli; 

Nick Drowatzky sits in the trunk of his car to hook up an amp in the parking lot by the 100 Building. 
Photo by Mike Shepherd. 





portraits 99 

The Grizzly photo studio 

Some of the 
faces at the 

Butler of El Dorado 


(photos by The Grizzly Magazine staff) 

Turn the page ... 

Tire Grizzly 41 

Bill Amyx, Topeka freshman 

Cedric Anderson, Oliio freshman 

Sheryle Baker, El Dorado sophomore 

Zach Barker, El Dorado sophomore 

Cara Barrett, Attn Vista freshman 

Kevin Beagley, Wichita sophomore 

Brian Beattie, Dir. of Library Services 

Sue Beattie, CIS instructor 

Michael Bergkamp, Wichita sophomore 

Amber Biddle, Winfield freshman 

Bill Bidwell, English instructor 

Del Black, Wichita freshman 

Willie Blade, Georgia sophomore 

Dawnelle Bliss, Wichita freshman 

Dean Book, El Dorado sophomore 

Kyle Bourget, Augusta sophomore 

Jeremy Brady, Clearwater freshman 

Angela Broomfield, Towanda freshman 

Jason Brown, Atchison freshman 

Jeremy Bruner, Augusta sophomore 

Jeff Burnett, Rose Hill freshman 

Nicole Cain, Wichita freshman 

Holly Call, Derby sophomore 

Jeff Calvery, Derby sophomore 

Joseph Cantu, Augusta freshman 

Dena Careswell, Wichita freshman 

Tony Carlisle, El Dorado sophomore 

Jake Carlson, Manhattan freshman 

Jessica Carter, Derby freshman 

Michael dayman, Hutchinson 


Andy Clifford, Augusta sophomore 
April Coffman-Olson, El Dorado 


Chris Cool, Kansas City freshman 

Adam Crank, El Dorado freshman 

Crystal Crank, Pomona freshman 

42 The Grizzly 

Brandon Crawford, Chanute freshman 
Rania Dahoudi, Jerusalem freshman 
Atiba Dauzart, Louisiana freshman 
ShaLisha Davis, Kentucky freshman 
Dustin Dick, Wichita freshman 

Andrew Donovan, Wichita freshman 
Chris Drake, Kansas City freshman 
Sercy Duncan, Atchison sophomore 
Ty Edwards, Salina freshman 
Jennifer Elliott, Oxford freshman 

Todd Fagan, Mulvane sophomore 
Nadiya Farista, El Dorado freshman 
Brandon Farrar, El Dorado freshman 
Paris Farrell, Valley Center freshman 
Jared Fowler, El Dorado freshman 

Kai Fowler, El Dorado freshman 
Jermaine Francis, Florida sophomore 
Jamie Fulmer, Eureka freshman 
Corey Funk, Wichita freshman 
Moses Gathuka, Kenya sophomore 

Rachel Giefer, Cheney freshman 

Jessica Gillan, El Dorado freshman 

Marcus Golson, Overland Park 


Stephanie Goossen, Hillsboro 


Heather Guerra, El Dorado freshman 

Mica Hammer, Towanda freshman 
Travis Hare, Hamilton freshman 
Ryan Harmon, Protection freshman 
Sarah Jo Harmon, El Dorado freshman 
Rex Harris, Haysville freshman 

Ryan Haugaard, El Dorado freshman 

Charlyn Hawkins, New Jersey 


Lance Hayes, Radio-TV-Film 


Andrew Headrick, Atlanta freshman 

Ryan Hefley, Hillsboro freshman 

THe Grizzly 43 

Chris Hendrickson, Wichita freshman 

Mandy Hendrix, El Dorado fresh man 

Dana Heyen, Douglass sophomore 

Tom Hild, Benton sophomore 

Travis Hinnen, Benton sophomore 

April Holcomb, Rosalia freshman 

Gary Holmes, Chemistry instructor 

Debb Homman, Solomon freshman 

Letitia Hood, Towanda freshman 

Sarah Houseman, Eureka freshman 

Susan Howell, El Dorado sophomore 

Stephanie Hupp, Derby sophomore 

Travis Hurst, Erie freshman 

Tony Jackson, Alabama sophomore 

Jennifer Jacobs, Peabody freshman 

Tisha Johnston, Wichita freshman 

Darrell Jones, Atchison freshman 

Kevin Jones, Park City freshman 

Sheila Keopke, Wichita freshman 

Lacy Kerr, Derby freshman 

Shawn Kinkaid, Rose Hill freshman 

Jason Kittle, Augusta freshman 

Joel Knudsen, Music instructor 

Don Koke, Humanities instructor 

Corina Krieser, Nebraska freshman 

Susan Lawson, El Dorado sophomore 

Erin Lehr, Rose Hill sophomore 

Pennee Lewis, Towanda freshman 

Janella Little, Benton sophomore 

Justin Londagin, Augusta sophomore 

Stephen Lovette, Augusta freshman 
Andy Maddux, El Dorado freshman 

Rob Marney, Wyoming freshman 
Jim Marr, El Dorado freshman 

John Matheri, Kenya sophomore 

Roger Mathews, Art instructor 

Marsha Mawhirter, Spanish instructor 

Henry Mayberry, Hutchinson 


Josh McClure, Wichita freshman 

Brian McHone, Augusta freshman 

Jamie Meyer, Missouri sophomore 
Amber Miller, Cimarron freshman 
Crystal Miller, Wichita freshman 
April Mills, Eureka freshman 
Travis Milne, St. Francis sophomore 

David Mitchell, Burns freshman 

Monica Mitchell, El Dorado 


Wendy Mohler, El Dorado sophomore 

Matthew Mohr, Andale freshman 

Emily Moriarty, Topeka freshman 

Trisha Muck, Solomon freshman 
Michael Mueller, Sawyer freshman 
Tara Munley, Andover sophomore 
Dominic Myers, Wichita freshman 
Nicole Neises, Wichita freshman 

Tony Nelson, Wichita sophomore 
Mike Noffsinger, El Dorado freshman 
Roselyne Odhiambo, Kenya freshman 
Elizabeth Ogumbo, Kenya freshman 
Angee Oliver, Wichita freshman 

Jeannie Parscal, CIS instructor 

J.D. Patton, Valley Center sophomore 

Andy Payne, Topeka freshman 

Carol-Ann Perez, El Dorado 


Curtis Pickering, Salina freshman 

Autumn Pierce, Valley Center 


Ashley Potts, Norwich freshman 

Kaylon Price, Wichita sophomore 

Janet Querner, Wichita sophomore 

Antionette Rangel, El Dorado 


Tire Grizzly 4S 

Floyd Ray, Wicliita sophomore 

Tammy Raymond, El Dorado freshman 

David Read, Andover freshman 

David Reed, Wichita freshman 

Seth Reimer, Moscow sophomore 

Selena Reynolds, El Dorado freshman 

Carly Richards, Derby freshman 

Travis Richardson, Council Grove 

Justin Riddiough, Derby sophomore 
Imelda Roberts, Andover sophomore 

Roxy Robinson, Peabody freshman 

Andrew Rosine, Peabody freshman 

David Routt, Ohio freshman 

Charlie Rowe, Wichita sophomore 

James Russell, Wichita freshman 

Hope Sanford, Clearwater freshman 

Seth Schomick, Topeka freshman 

Don Schuler, Valley Center sophomore 

Jon Shaffer, Benton freshman 

Mike Shepherd, Wichita sophomore 

Elisha Shriver, Salina freshman 

Christie Shurtz, Wichita freshman 

Brett Shuster, Wichita freshman 

Dale Skillman, Waverly freshman 

David Smallwood, Rose Hill 


Colleen Smith, Wichita freshman 

Derek Smith, Manhattan sophomore 

Jeremy Solomon, Newton freshman 

Tiffany Stange, Wichita freshman 

Nathan Stevenson, Augusta 


Adam Stiles, Wichita freshman 

Renee Stockwell, El Dorado freshman 

Jeff Storm, El Dorado freshman 

Matt Suther, Frankfurt sophomore 

Aaron Sweazy, Chapman freshman 


.Jf^*<~ ■"' 

■ 1 



'' ■fVl 



A • ' ; ' 1 

4G The Grizzly 

Tanner Swift, Benton freshman 
Kristy Tabor, Wichita sophomore 
Heather Taylor, Rose Hill sophomore 
Danny Telford, Wichita sophomore 
Rebecca Thieme, Cunningham 

Joanna Tillman, El Dorado sophomore 
Angie Triana, El Dorado sophomore 
Chiquita Tucker, Illinois freshman 
Peggy Unruh, Peabody freshman 
Dana Vietti, El Dorado freshman 

T.J. Vilkanskas, Manhattan freshman 

David Walter, El Dorado sophomore 

McKenzie Wartick, El Dorado 


Antony Wavveru, Kenya freshman 

Tim Welch, Augusta sophomore 

Joshua Wells, Andover freshman 
Brooke White, Liberal sophomore 
Stefan White, Wichita freshman 
Terri White, El Dorado freshman 
Jami Wilkening, Ulysses sophomore 

Corey Williams, Wichita freshman 

Matt Williamson, Wichita freshman 

Mike Wilmott, Valley Center freshman 

McKenzie Wimberly, Benton 


Ryan Winsler, Newton sophomore 

Brett Wise, El Dorado freshman 
Mandy Woodroof, Mt. Hope 

The Grriatzl^y 

GrX-latSElv Sl30tll 

A sunset over Kansas. 
Photo by Chris Lawrie.